Page 253 of This Woman Forever

“I’ve had two scans,” she says. Oh, that’s good. Very good. I let my body sink into the bed again, needing to close my eyes. “I should call the nurse.”

“No, please,” I whisper, dragging my heavy hand to her neck. “Let me wake up before... they start poking... me about.” I inject some power into my arm and pull her closer.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She doesn’t? Too late for that. I put up some resistance when she tries to pull away, gritting my teeth. I don’t win because I’m stronger. I win because she gives in. “Jesse.”

“Contact. Do what you’re told.”

She does, which is a welcome result, because there wouldn’t be much I could do about it if she didn’t. “Are you in much pain?”

This isn’t pain. I don’t know what this is but it’s fucking unbearable. “Agony.”

“I need to get the nurse,” she whispers, her volume now at a tolerable level.

“Soon.” I sigh. “I’m comfy.”

“No, you’re not.”

True. But I suppose I ought to get used to uncomfortable. I need some painkillers. Where’s the fucking nurses around here? I frown at myself.

“I’m glad you’re still here.” I turn my head and pucker my lips, kissing her. “I’d have given up if I didn’t constantly hear your defiant voice.”

“You could hear me?”

“Yes, it was strange and fucking annoying when”—fuck, get me some painkillers—“I couldn’t tell you off. Will you ever do what you’re told?”

“No.”

“Thought not.” Why change the habit of a lifetime? But my habit? Keeping secrets I shouldn’t keep? I have to change that habit. I have to get comfortable talking about my past. “I have some explaining to do.”

“No, you don’t.” She’s suddenly scrambling away, and she catches me in my side as she does. Doesn’t stop me from holding on to her, though. Idiot.

“Fuck.” Lord, help me. “Fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I grunt, holding her close, and she eventually relents, thank God. “Just stay put and listen. You’re not going anywhere until... I’ve told you about”—Deep breath—“Rosie.” I don’t think I’ve said her name out loud since she died, and hearing it in my voice, albeit gravelly and dry, brings on a whole new facet of pain.

You can do it, Daddy.

Shit. I can do it.

Can I?

“Lauren was the daughter of my mum and dad’s good friends,” I begin, starting to tell the story I should have told long ago, fighting against the discomfort to speak clearly. “I’m sure you can imagine the type,” I battle on. “Well-bred, rich, and highly respected in the snotty community that we... were forced to tolerate.” God, how I hated them. “We fooled around once and she ended up pregnant.” Planned by her, not me. “We were seventeen, young and stupid.” Me more so. How did I not see what she was doing that night she appeared in my bedroom with a bottle of vodka—a means to escape my grief if only for a short while? “Can you imagine the scandal? I’d really done it this time.” I’m not sure what’s more painful—talking or moving. “Fuck,” I hiss, testing myself. Definitely moving.

Ava’s quiet. Listening. So I shouldn’t stop. Get it all out.

Deep breaths.

“Emergency meetings were called between Lauren’s family and my own.” I remember sitting there, numb and mute, listening to my future being meticulously planned. Lauren was smiling. Happy. “Her father demanded I... marry her before word got out and ruined both of our families. Jake... ” I fade off briefly to take a breath. “Jake had not long died. I went along with it, hoping my compliance might build some bridges with my parents.” I feel Ava’s hand squeeze mine, and I swallow a few times, trying to moisten my dry mouth so I can continue. “The joint effort of both families did an amazing job of convincing the community that we were hopelessly in love.”

“She was,” Ava says, quite matter of fact.

“And I wasn’t.” If anything, I was terrified. I take a few more breaths, fighting through the pain to continue. I’m not stopping until this is done. “I was married off and moved into her parents’ country estate within a month. Everyone was happy, except... me. Carmichael gave me an escape, and I... I finally... plucked up the courage to call a halt on the whole diabolical farce.” Breathe. “But when Rosie arrived, I was...”—A hard swallow—“determined to be a dad. That little girl was the only person on the planet who loved me for me, no expectations or pressure, she just accepted me in her innocence. It didn’t matter that she was a baby.” I smile on the inside. “She was a real daddy’s girl. I could do no wrong, and I knew I never would in her eyes. That was enough to make me evaluate the lifestyle I’d slipped into while Lauren was pregnant.” I can’t get her fucking face out of my head, and it’s pissing me off. “Carmichael got the best solicitor involved to try and gain me full custody because he knew that she was my redeemer, but Lauren’s family dug up every dirty little secret, from Jake, to The Manor, to my brief lifestyle, from when I left Lauren until Rosie was born. I didn’t have a hope.”

“And your parents had moved to Spain by now?”

I laugh. I don’t know why. Because it fucking hurts. “Yeah, they escaped the shame I’d brought on the family.” What kind of delusional idiot am I? Still telling myself things, but to what end?

“They abandoned you,” Ava says quietly, with no judgment.

“They wanted me to go with them. Mum begged, but I couldn’t leave Rosie full-time with that family. She’d be frowned upon as an illegitimate child, even though she had me. Not an option.”

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